I Promise
by SugarCocoflower
Summary: Mabel becomes very sick, and Dipper's life falls apart. Through the stages of denial, regret, and anger, he can't bear the thought of his sister being in such a state. In desperation, he promises to make the next few weeks the best time of her life, even if she doesn't have much life left.
1. The Beginning

"Mabel, you've been in bed all day," I groaned, my voice cracking. Stupid puberty voice.

"I'm just...," she yawned, sitting atop her pink blanket. "I'm not feeling it today." she grabbed her pig and pulled him onto the bed with her, squeezing him tightly. I approached her, the attic floor cracking beneath my feet. I sat on the edge of her bed.

"We can get some ice cream," I said. I would have given anything for her to be in the great mood she seemed to always be in before she became this way. I poked her stomach, and she groaned a bit, as if it had hurt her. "Or we can, you know...hang out with Wendy and the gang."

I looked down, and she was sound asleep. It didn't alarm me much. Sometimes, she tired herself out from being...Mabel. Except this was happening a lot lately, now that I thought of it. I missed hanging out with her, but she hadn't been quite herself for about a month now. It raised a few red flags, but not enough for me to do anything. It was probably the Summer heat.

If anything, Waddles was acting a bit strangely. He was more clingy to Mabel than usual. Was that normal for pigs?

I looked down at my sister with a sigh. Now that I thought about it, she seemed to have lost about ten pounds. Gee, maybe something _was_ wrong. Was she depressed? Some sort of eating disorder? Something had to be making her feel like this. It hadn't happened the previous year. But we had grown a lot since then. It felt as if we were twelve ten years ago, but it was only last Summer. Actually, she hadn't grown at all physically, and I was about an inch or two taller than her now. She didn't seem to mind, though. She was slightly more mature now, but still the sister I knew and loved, only until recently. Now, she was losing touch with the world. Including her friends, and more importantly, her family.

I brushed my hand through her hair, but to my surprise, her head was a bit warmer than it should have been. I placed my hand on her forehead, and she had a fever. It wasn't a bad fever, like she sometimes had when she was little, but it was probably somewhere around a hundred degrees. It was definitely enough to concern me, though.

Waddles let out a low grumble, and I pulled my hand away. He didn't want anyone near her at all. This wasn't common for him. He was usually laid back, and never protective. I didn't think he knew how to be protective. But I just wanted to know why he was this way all of a sudden.

"Kids, dinner!" I heard Stan call from downstairs. I tried to shake Mabel awake, but she smacked my arm lightly, mumbling something. I shrugged it off and proceeded downstairs and into the kitchen. I took the freshly microwaved TV dinner and sat in the living room. Stan sat in his favorite chair, eating his dinner as he watched an MMA fight. He turned to me, a puzzled look on his face. "Where's your sister?"

"She's asleep."

"Asleep? It's only seven," he replied, scratching the back of his neck. "She's been acting a little strange."

"I know," I agreed, beginning to fidget around. "I'm a little worried."

"I'll say. I need her in the shop."

I looked up at him. I knew he cared about her well-being, but I couldn't help being bothered by his lack of concern.

"You mean, you're not worried that...you know, maybe she's got the flu or something?"

"Nah, she's fine. I've had the flu, and that's not it. I think it's just her hormones getting all out of whack. That's what happens to girls her age, right?" he looked around as he pondered the subject. "She still likes boys, right?"

"Yeah," I said flatly. Something about him was pissing me off that day, but he'd been worse. I just wanted him to care as much as I was beginning to. "She has a fever, though."

"Probably just the heat, you know. We'll go to the pool soon."

I looked down at my food. I had only taken a few bites, but I had already lost my appetite. Without a word, I put my food into the fridge, took a pink Popsicle from the freezer, and walked up the creaking steps. Mabel was sitting on the edge of her bed, blowing her nose. She had a few tissues beside her, and each one was stained with blood.

"Mabel, are you feeling alright?" I asked. I handed her the Popsicle. "Here, Sis."

"Th-thanks," she moaned, opening it and taking a few licks. She seemed more frail than usual, like it hurt to move. "I'm alright. It's probably just that growth spurt I've been waiting for."

"I hope so," I said. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "You'll feel better soon, I promise."

_I had never broken a promise before._

"Thanks," she yawned. She curled up and closed her eyes again.

"Wait, don't go back to sleep," I said, almost begging. "I know, why don't you invite the girls over? O-or we can make popcorn and watch a movie downstairs!"

"Dipper...," she groaned in response. "I'm tired. I should really get some sleep..."

"Just try to stay awake, okay? You won't feel any better if you lie around. I'll make it worth your while. It'll be fun."

"Well, okay," she said. I took her hand, but Waddles crawled between us. I could swear he shot a glare at me.

"Come on," I grinned. She smiled for the first time in quite a bit, and for a moment, it was like I had the old Mabel back. I helped her stand up, but she groaned in pain. "Are you okay, Mabel?"

"It...hurts...," she said, her legs shaking.

"Can you walk?"

She took two steps towards me and collapsed. I caught her before she could hit the floor.

"S-something's...wrong...Dipper..."

I got her back into bed and pet her soft, deep brown hair. I loved her hair a lot. It was always smoother than mine.

"Don't worry. You'll be okay. We just...we need to get you some help. I'll go get Stan."

"Wait...don't leave," she murmured. "I need you..."

"I'll only be gone a minute, okay?" I walked back downstairs, and Grunkle Stan was half asleep in his chair. "Grunkle Stan, it's Mabel. Something's wrong..."

"I told you, it's probably-"

"She can hardly walk. Her nose is bleeding like crazy. I know something's wrong. Please."

"Alright. Fine," he sighed, stretching as he stood up. I led him upstairs, and Mabel was curled into a ball.

"See?" I said. It was hard to think that he believed she was fine. I used to think he didn't believe anything out of me, but he knows I don't just imagine things.

"Kid?" he poked her, and she turned to him, mumbling something inaudible. He felt her head, her sweaty hair, and turned to me. He seemed more concerned than I'd ever seen him. I mean, he had a look of fear in his eyes that was almost indescribable. He knew this was serious. For some reason, I didn't feel she was in danger. The weight of the situation hadn't quite donned on me.

"Well?" I looked at my great uncle, and he seemed just as confused as I was.

"We'd better get her to a doctor," he said simply. "She doesn't look too good."

I carried her upon my shoulders, as if she was a wounded soldier. We got into the burgundy car, and I sat her on my lap.

"Don't worry...I won't let anything happen to you," I whispered to her. "I promise."


	2. The ER

**Just a note. Okay, so because season 2 just started, and this takes place a year later, there's a possibility of me breaking continuity. I'm usually good about keeping continuity, but in the event that something in the show happens that changes the consistency of this story, I'm sorry. And I'll probably edit accordingly, unless it's a huge event that requires me to change the entire story.**

* * *

Once we arrived at the ER and checked in, they took Mabel's vitals. I didn't leave her side the entire time, and I held her hand when they drew her blood. The nurses talked amongst each other, and I knew it was regarding her condition. They said a few things to Stan, and it seemed to make him feel worse.

The waiting room was a sizable area with uncomfortable metal chairs and beige walls. There were a few televisions on the wall, each playing the same soap opera.

"Mabel...," I whispered, sitting beside her as she nodded off. She smiled and playfully poked me on the nose. "Are you feeling any better?"

She looked at me and blinked. I wasn't sure she heard me.

She vomited on my favorite red shirt and blue vest. Even worse, there was glitter in it. I expected Stan to chuckle, but he just sat there, thinking. I knew he was worried, but he would never admit it.

"Pines," a voice called, not a moment too soon. I stood and helped Mabel up.

"I, uh," Stan looked down. It was a little funny, since he'd rarely show his concern for things. But then again, I always felt he loved Mabel more than me, so the thought of her being unwell took its toll on him. "I need to step out. I'll be there in a bit, Kiddo."

I turned to the nurse who had called us in. She had short, curly red hair and blue scrubs. She had a mole on her nose, and her name-tag said "Joanne".

Without a word, Joanne led us to a room with the ugliest brown curtains I had ever seen.

Mabel got into the hospital bed and sat up as we waited for the doctor. She pulled out a writing pad and began to draw pictures of kittens in pen, though her hand was shaky. I was actually quite worried at this point, unlike before. I was beginning to become more and more anxious.

Mabel hummed quietly to herself. She looked up at me, slightly more alert of her surroundings than before.

"You're not worried about me, are you?" she seemed guilty, as if she felt bad about putting us through the trouble of taking her to the ER.

"Well of course I am." I wasn't going to lie. "But I...I know you'll be okay. You always are. And I don't think you should worry either."

"Aww," she smiled a little, rubbing her eyes. I could tell she was in a lot of pain, and I just wished I could make it all go away.

The doctor entered the room, Stan following. The doctor wore a lab coat and had balding black hair and green eyes, and I took it that they had been talking a bit. They both seemed to be concerned, as well as quite anxious. They exchanged looks, and the doctor knelt down by Mabel's bed.

"Mabel, I'm Doctor Simmons," he took a long sigh. "We need to run a few tests, alright? We're pretty sure we know what's wrong, after reviewing your symptoms and looking at your blood samples, but I think it would be a good idea to rule out a few things," he looked at Stan and me, then looked down. "We're going to do our best."

"What do you think it is?" I looked up at him pleadingly. "Will she be alright? Is it serious?"

He didn't say a word before wheeling her away. I sat patiently beside Stan. I felt nauseous. I felt an uneasiness in my chest, as if I was about to cry. But I didn't like to cry in front of others. Especially Stan, since I hated for him to think any less of me.

We sat in silence for several agonizing minutes. A half hour had passed before I heard Stan clear his throat. He faced me.

"Kid," he put his hand on my shoulder. He took a long pause and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? About what? Sh-she's going to be fine! They don't know what it is, yet!"

"Dipper...," I knew he was biting his tongue. He sat straight and didn't say anything.

"Did he tell you what he thinks it is?" I tilted my head. "Stan, I'm old enough to understand. Y-you can tell me!" My eyes began to water, and I took a deep breath. "She's my sister, and I think I should-"

"Look, I don't want to say anything until they're sure."

They brought Mabel back in, and gave her an IV drip, which sat menacingly beside her. I hated being there. I hated the thought of being the only one who didn't know what was going on.

"We had to administer a small dose of morphine," the doctor stated. "She's in more pain than it seems," he began to leave the room. "I'm going to take a look at some of the results. I assure you, when I come back, I'll have an answer."

I held Mabel's hand, and Stan left yet again.

"It's okay, Mabel. It'll be okay," I kept saying. I knew she wasn't half as worried as I was.

"Boop," she said, pressing her hand against my cheek. She looked around. "Is this room moving? Ugh, I don't feel right..."

"It's just the medicine, don't worry," I assured her. "Y-you're going to be fine."

She hugged me tightly.

"Y-You're the best, Dipper," her voice was slightly slurred.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. She stuck her tongue out and poked my nose before answering.

"Kinda weird," she replied. "I don't feel well. I want to go home."

"We can't go back to the shack right now, Mabel-"

"No, I want to go _home_. I want to see Mom and Dad."

I sighed.

"Don't worry about that. Just get some rest, alright?"

She nodded.

"I love you," she said, closing her eyes. I ruffled her hair.

"Love you too."

"I love you more."

As she began to doze off, Stan returned. He looked a mess. I sniffed the air, and coughed a few times upon doing so.

"Were you...smoking?" I gave him a puzzled look as he sat down. "You quit three years ago."

He didn't answer me. We sat in silence until the doctor returned.

I dreaded this.

I almost didn't want to hear what was wrong. But I needed to.

"Well...we have an answer."

**REVIEW OR I WON'T CONTINUE.**

**Haha, is that even a threat? Nah, I'll continue. I just love reviews a lot.**


	3. The News

I looked up at the doctor pleadingly, and Mabel opened her eyes. He slicked his hair back and sighed, his voice becoming shaky.

"It appears to be acute myeloid leukemia. I've never been so sure of anything else. I'm truly sorry."

I felt completely defeated and powerless. This couldn't be right.

The color seemed to fade out of the room. I couldn't believe it- no, I wouldn't believe it.

"No!" I snapped, standing up and stomping my foot indignantly. "You're wrong! She was absolutely fine a month ago. You have to check again! There must have been some sort of...misreading or-or something!"

"Dipper, stop-"

"No!" I cried again. Stan seemed slightly shocked that I would raise my voice at him. "Grunkle Stan, you can't possibly believe he could have come to a diagnosis so quickly!" I clenched my hands.

"We can try a bone marrow transplant. But I don't know if it'll do much justice at this point."

"I'll do it!" I insisted."Take as much as you need! I-I just need her to be okay!"

He turned to Stan.

"I assure you, it's an expensive procedure. Your insurance doesn't cover more than half of it, and even then..."

"How much?" Stan questioned.

"It's going to be around fifty-thousand dollars. I know it's a hefty amount, but I feel it's crucial if you want your niece to survive this."

Stan looked at me. We both knew we didn't have nearly enough.

"Are you sure...there's no other option?" Stan asked. "I'll sell a kidney on the black market or-"

"The only other option is chemotherapy, which will cost even more, given the circumstances. I highly suggest fundraising or selling anything you can to accumulate the amount you need."

"Surely there's something else you could do!" I begged. "Please..."

"It's either that, or I'm afraid she won't likely make it."

Those words were like daggers.

I walked out of the room quickly and stood near the waiting room. I covered my face and began to sob. I had never cried so hard in my life. Why couldn't it have been me?

I was hysterical. I couldn't even think right. Why did this have to happen to her? I didn't love anyone more than I loved my sister, and she was slipping away faster than I realized. My entire body began to shake as I choked out the tears I had tried so desperately to hold back. I didn't want to face the truth. The doctor had to be lying or wrong. I mean, it seemed like just yesterday, Mabel and I were skipping rocks and playing indoor mini-golf. But now it was the beginning of the end. I didn't know what I would do without her. I was nothing without her.

I fell to my knees. My head began to hurt from crying, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want this. I would have given anything to trade places with her.

I was out there for about ten minutes. I rushed to the bathroom a few times to puke, then finally just stood near the bathrooms and didn't do much of anything. Besides, you know, crying my brains out.

I looked up to see Stan. I didn't know how long he had been watching me cry, but I wiped my tears and tried to suppress my whimpering, to no avail. I expected him to say something about how I was being childish, but I could swear he was holding back tears himself.

"Dipper," he got on one knee and put his hand on my shoulder. "No kid should have to go through this. Neither you or her. I've tried so hard these past few years to protect you guys, to prevent you from seeing how truly cruel the world is."

"She's g-going to be f-fine," I choked out.

"The doctor says it might be too late."

"W-What does he know? He's not a psychic! He's not God! He d-doesn't know for sure!"

"Look," Stan looked me in the eyes, and his I could see he was truly in pain. I felt he couldn't possibly be as broken as I was. "She needs you. If she knows you're terrified, imagine how she'll feel."

"I know...," I hiccuped, trying to keep the tears in. "I know, Grunkle Stan."

"It's going to be tough, but you need to go in there and suck it up, alright?"

"B-but what are we gonna do?" I asked. "How are we going to get enough money?"

"We're not. It's impossible, Dipper. That is unless I...you know, sell the shack."

"Y-you'd do that? For Mabel?"

"I...I need to think," he sighed. "I'll be homeless. But...it'll be worth it if she lives. The thing is, though, there's a high chance she won't...and I will have sold the shack for nothing."

I looked down, wiping my tears with my arm.

"B-but...you...you have to..."

"Even that might not be enough..."

"I...I can fundraise, just like he suggested."

"Dipper, you can't make fifty-thousand dollars selling chocolate. If every person in town bought one, it wouldn't be enough. So just...just, go and talk to her. I need some time alone."

I did as told and went back into the room. I felt so stupid. The past few weeks, I had ignored her symptoms. I thought the nosebleeds were just the heat. Maybe the pain was just cramps. Maybe she was tired from playing all day. She was always there for me, and the one time she needed me, I wasn't. I was a failure. I didn't deserve such an amazing sister.

When I reentered the room, she was crying into her arms. Neither of us cried much, in all honesty, but she had every right to.

"Mabel...," I placed my hand on her back. Though I had stopped crying, my eyes were deep red. "Don't worry. I'm going to do whatever I can."

She looked up, teary-eyed. It broke my heart to see her this way.

"I-I'm going to die," she whimpered.

"No, no you're not...," I hugged her tightly. "I'm not going to lose you."

"Dipper, you heard what he said...," she sniffled. "I'm never going to get married or have kids. I'm not going to go to the places I wanted to go or meet the people I wanted to meet..."

I would have thought she would be the positive one in this situation. But I knew where she was coming from. She was rarely serious, but this was an exception.

"Of course you will. I promise you will," I cupped her face in my hands. "When you leave the hospital, I swear, we're going to have the time of our lives, okay? We'll go anywhere you want, and do whatever you want to do."

She took my hand.

"Thank you."

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**Aww**

**Reviews are my food source. And I'm very hungry.**


	4. The Downfall

After a few days of trying to hold back tears (at least in front of Mabel), watching her get more tests and bloodwork done, and worrying about whether or not we'd have enough money, I still hadn't left her bedside for anything other than the restroom. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. Though I did read through the journal a few times, looking for an answer. I know it sounds silly, but I was desperate.

We were now in the Children's Hospital of Gravity Falls. There were little cartoon ponies painted on light blue walls.

The good news was, Mabel hadn't gotten worse in those few days. If anything, the medication she was on was making her feel better.

I sat patiently as she placed puppy stickers on my forehead. Through my baggy eyes, I could see her smile, and that's all that mattered to me.

She sat back and admired her work.

"You're beautiful," she whispered, becoming giddy.

"Are you feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"A little."

Maybe she would get better after all.

Stan entered the room. He seemed...broken. A shell of his former self. I could swear he smelled of alcohol, but I didn't blame him.

"Hey, Kids," he pulled my hat over my eyes and ruffled Mabel's hair. He pulled a chocolate milkshake from his coat as if he had been smuggling drugs, and handed it to her.

"Grunkle Stan, they said she can't have..." I looked into Mabel's eyes as she hesitated to drink it. She had been begging for a milkshake for days, but the nurses had her on a special diet (that she hardly ate- and had to be fed through a tube a few times). I sighed and smiled, poking her nose as she would often poke mine. "Enjoy, Sis."

Her face lit up as she sipped the cup's sugary contents through a straw. It meant so much to me to see her happy, so I wasn't going to argue.

"Your parents were supposed to be here yesterday," Stan sighed. I had never seen him so stressed. I could tell he hadn't been getting much sleep. Besides Mabel being sick, having Soos and Wendy man the shop was also quite nerve-wracking. "Heh...It's almost like they don't want to visit," he chuckled lightly.

The thing about our parents was...

They didn't like Mabel. She didn't see it. She thought, maybe it's just tough love. She loved them unconditionally, but I was the favorite. I loved being the favorite until I was old enough to realize how wrong it was. Them not wanting to visit in her time of need was...typical. Had it been me, I'd expect them to drive all the way to Oregon, flowers in hand, crying to the doctors to make me better. That's why I tried not to get that upset when Stan showed favoritism to Mabel. She deserved it. Sometimes, I would find that Mabel had a black eye or a bruise somewhere inflicted by Mom or Dad (usually Dad). Sometimes they blatantly insulted her, other times, they were more passive about it. They wanted a boy, and I was planned. Mabel, they called a mistake. Sometimes, they pretended to like her, and that manipulative nature was the reason she didn't hate them. I was given more dignity, and I hated it. That's why coming to Gravity Falls was the best thing that ever happened to us.

I looked at my sister. I didn't know what pain was until now. I thought my sixth-grade emo phase was pain. I thought losing my dog two years ago was pain. I thought failing a test after studying three nights in a row was pain.

This was pain in its purest form.

She looked happy. She was good at hiding her sadness when she wanted to. I knew she missed the shack. She missed her friends. I knew she worried about Waddles, even though Wendy wholeheartedly agreed to take care of him. Wendy was amazing.

"Need anything else?" Stan asked her. She shook her head, and he looked at me. "Do you need anything, Dipper?"

"No thanks," I sighed.

"Nice stickers by the way," he chuckled. I felt my face and peeled one off. There was a little corgi on it. _You're WOOFderful, _it read.

"Dipper, you know, you can go hang out with Wendy today if you want," Mabel grinned.

"No," I insisted. "I'd rather keep you company."

"You're the best," she hugged me, and I could feel that she was no longer capable of giving the tight, constricting hugs she used to give. She let out a small sigh. She loved the attention, but she hated being so sick.

Stan left the room again. He couldn't stay long before getting choked up.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Dipper, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, of course."

"What...what do you think happens when we die? Do we just...become nothing? Do we remember being alive? Can we think or feel?"

"Mabel...I...," I was a bit shocked at the question, but I shouldn't have been. It was a valid concern, given her situation. I just couldn't get any words out without fearing I might say the wrong thing. The thought began to worry me. What if there was no "other side" and when we died, we ceased to be? And that would mean that if Mabel passed away, instead of resting peacefully, she would just...

"Mabel, you're doing better, it looks," a nurse said as she entered the room. She had long blonde hair and a slightly muscular build. "Keep smiling."

"Aww, thanks, Nurse Rebecca," Mabel smiled. She had taken the liberty of learning the names of every nurse on the fourth floor.

"A few new results came in. Is your parent or guardian around?"

"Grunkle Stan stepped out. He'll be back soon."

"Grunkle?" she seemed puzzled at the unfamiliar term, but shrugged it off.

"I'll go find him," I volunteered. I looked up at Nurse Rebecca. In all honesty, I just wanted to hear the new results. "I'll be back in a few, okay?"

"Right-o!" Mabel replied.

I looked all over the fourth floor before heading down the elevator. I expected to find him in the cafeteria, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I stepped outside of the hospital and he sat on the curb holding a silver flask. I sat beside him.

"Stan, the nurses are wondering where you are," I said. He took a sip and didn't answer me for several seconds.

"I...I can't believe this."

"Grunkle Stan?"

"I wanted to watch her grow up. I wanted to be there when she got married. You know, my biggest fear was that maybe she'd end up old and divorced having to con tourists in a small town for a living. Once I lost Kylie, my life fell apart, and you two were all I had left."

"I thought you didn't like talking about Kylie," I reminded him.

"I know but...losing your little girl just does something to you. It was all because of me and...now Mabel too. I swear, it's like the world hates me."

"It wasn't your fault, Stan," I said. I knew this was a hard subject for him, and he hadn't brought it up in years. "Don't beat yourself up for it."

He pulled out his wallet and looked at a picture as he spoke. It was of a younger, happier him and a little girl in a blue winter hat. She had curly brown hair, dimples, and freckles and had on a pair of blue mittens, a red scarf, and a white jacket.

"She was six. She had so much ahead of her, and I just...I really wanted to go on that ski trip. How was I supposed to know she would catch pneumonia? How was I supposed to know our car would break down in the middle of nowhere, and I would have to watch her die in my arms?"

I didn't know what to say. I could tell he was losing hope, and it killed me inside.

"You're not going to get through it if you sit out here all day," I sighed. He looked at me. "You can't feel bad for yourself at a time like this."

"I know," he replied. "You're absolutely right."

He took one last sip from his flask and stood up. We went up the elevator and into Mabel's room. The doctor was talking amongst the nurses, holding the results in his hand. He had curly brown hair and stubble. His shirt had the name "McCormick" sewn into it. He turned to Stan, and looking at his expression, it seemed like bad news.

"Stanford," he held the bridge of his nose. "You know, this is the worst part of my job...," their eyes met, and Dr. McCormick clicked his pen a few times. He lowered his voice. "I think...we should talk outside of the room. You know...it might be a lot for the kids to take..."

"Of course...," I saw a fear in Stan's eyes I had never seen before. As much as I hated not hearing the news, maybe deluding myself and not knowing the truth was the best way to keep my sanity.

They both left the room, closing the door behind them. In a matter of seconds, I could hear Stan shout something, and the doctor telling him to calm down.

I looked at Mabel, and she worriedly clutched a pillow.

"Don't worry, Mabel," I could hear Stan swearing outside of the room, saying words I had never heard him say before. "I'm sure you'll be okay. You're feeling a little better already, so I'm sure in no time, they'll have you fixed up."

She rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself down. She puller her pink sweater over her head.

"Mabel, come on," I sat on the corner of her bed. "Get out of Sweater-town. It's going to be alright."

She peeked out of her sweater and looked at me. Her voice was slightly muffled.

"Dipper...," her eyes began to water. "I'm scared."

"I know," I held her in my arms. It brought back memories of taking care of her when she had the flu, or that time she tried Waddles' food. I was just as frightened as she was, but I didn't want her to know that.

I had to be brave for her, just like Stan said.

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**I'm thinking of doing a oneshot about Kylie. Please tell me if that's a good idea or not in the reviews, because I'm not sure.**

**This might be my favorite chapter so far.**

**Also, review. :)**


	5. Work Together

**So I saw the new episode and...**

** LMAO they made a joke about bras! And the joke about Dipper's internet history was priceless.**

** My only complaint about the newest episode is that neither Mabel nor Soos contributed to the story, but Wendy did. It's usually the other way around. Also, Mabel was nothing more than annoying and borderline malicious here. Her character should have more in common with someone like Pinkie Pie (MLPFIM), not Cheese (FHFIF), or any other character of the sort. She has depth. Being silly isn't her only character quality.**

** I'm done ranting. Here you go.**

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Stan reentered the room alone, trying to keep his cool. He paced around a few times.

"Well?" I asked. He didn't reply. Mabel and I exchanged looks. "Grunkle Stan? W-what did he say?"

He looked down and sighed deeply.

"We're going home, kids."

"Home? We can't leave yet, Mabel isn't better!"

"Look, we can't afford the treatment, and...they say the next best option is to just...you know, let nature take its course."

"What?" Mabel and I said in unison. "But Grunkle Stan, I can raise the money! Just...just give me a chance. I'll pay for the transplant. I'll pay for whatever she needs. I just...," I held back tears, and I felt my stomach drop. "I just want her to be okay..."

He held his head and exhaled through his nose.

"Dipper, this hospital bill is going to cost me every penny I can dig up. How...how could you possibly raise so much in so little time? I have a job, and it takes me almost an entire year to make the amount we need."

"We just need to work together!" I insisted. "W-what if...what if we-"

"Guys, this isn't an easy decision. I'd do anything for my family, but-"

"If you'd do anything, you'll sell the shack," I said sternly.

"Excuse me?"

"You said so yourself that you were considering it. Mabel's worth it, and you know that. So sell it. Sell your car, sell anything."

"I...I couldn't do that," he thought for a bit. I frustratedly left the room, and he followed, closing the door behind us."They gave it a couple months before it completely destroys her liver. It's hopeless."

I swear my heart stopped.

My palms began to sweat.

It was_ this_ bad, and he wasn't going to do anything?

I had finally reached my breaking point.

"How could you be so selfish?" I growled.

"Selfish?" he snapped back. "Are you kidding me? I'm paying thousands of dollars for this room alone! I have to pay for her pain medications, everything. What have you done, huh? Sat there and told her it would be okay when it's not? Held her hand as she's slowly dying?"

"I'm thirteen, Stan! If I was in your position, I _would_ sell the shack! I would sell everything I own for her. How could you not sacrifice everything to make sure she's okay?"

"Because...my best wouldn't be enough. Say she does get that transplant. They say she still probably won't survive. And it kills me to know that."

"So...we're just going to give up?" I looked down. My tears made little tapping noises as they hit the ground. "Just go home and pretend it's alright?"

"Dipper, you're too young to understand."

"No! No I'm not!" I cried. "All you care about is yourself! That's why you're such a wreck! That's why you lost Kylie!"

He paused and looked at me. I stepped back. I was sure he was going to hit me. And he had every right to. Instead, he left. I watched him go towards the direction of the elevators, and I just hoped he didn't hate me. I was just in the moment. I rarely said stuff I didn't mean. And now I just felt like a jerk.

That was beside the point. Mabel needed me.

I wiped my face and went back into the room. She was coloring. She looked up at me, hiding deep pain behind her metal-ridden smile.

"What did he say?" she asked looking up at me.

"N-nothing important," I replied, scratching my head. "Why don't we play some tic-tac-toe or something?"

"I want to know what he said. Are we going home?"

"I don't know," I sighed. I sat on the edge of her bed.

"Where's Grunkle Stan?"

"He...went out for some air."

"Again?" she tilted her head as her blue raspberry scented marker scratched the paper. "He's acting weird. Like, somewhere between snail with legs and three-headed dolphin weird."

"He's just worried about you."

She held up her paper.

"Ta-da!"

"What is it?"

"It's a list, silly. It's all the things I want to do when I'm better."

I looked at the paper. I couldn't help but giggle as I skimmed through. Some of them were downright adorable.

_Go to Disneyland with Dipper_

_ Go meet the band members of "Joy Boys" with Dipper_

_ Go to Sea World with Dipper_

_ Go to the glitter factory with Dipper_

_ Go to The Puppy Cafe with Dipper_

The list went on. It had probably fifty bullet points and counting.

She took the page back and continued her list. I looked at her uncomfortably writing as the IV tube pierced her arm. She would nod off a few times, and then come to and continue. Even writing brought pain to her joints. She had bloody tissues beside her, but she still smiled. She was still Mabel.

That's when it donned on me.

She wasn't going to get better.

She was _never_ going to get better.

Not here like this. Not without that transplant she needed. And if Stan wasn't going to try to pay for it, I was.

I hugged her tightly before darting out of the room. On the way, I passed Grunkle Stan. He tried to talk to me, but I didn't listen, and just kept going. I went down the elevator and out the door. I ran as fast as I could, past the river, and nearly two miles to the Mystery Shack.

"Dipper, are you alright?" Wendy questioned as I entered the gift shop. Usually, I couldn't look away from her luscious red hair for long, but I was in a hurry. I took a nearby permanent marker and began marking up prices. "What are you doing?"

"H-h-ave to...," I was so out of breath, I couldn't speak right. "M-m...money...transplant..."

"Hey, hey, calm down," she said before I could finish adding more zeros to the bumper stickers. She put her hands on my shoulders. "What's wrong? You're supposed to be at the hospital with Mabel."

"I...I have to...ugh...fifty-thousand dollars," my words were slurred, and my lack of food and drinks the past few days was taking its toll on me. "I can't let her die, Wendy." Tears filled my eyes, and I could tell she was genuinely worried for me. It was so cute!

But at the moment, I didn't care. I just needed to earn that money. Hell, I was probably willing to steal it at this point.

"Calm down, Dipper. Speak...slowly..."

I hyperventilated for awhile before I calmed down.

"I...I need to raise fifty-thousand dollars...or else Mabel's going to die. Our insurance won't cover any treatment, so...if I mark every tee-shirt from thirty dollars to six-thousand, I think we can-"

"Dipper, you can't-"

"I know, but I have to try..."

She began to mark prices up alongside me.

"Hey," Soos entered the room, a bag of chips in his hand. "What are you doing here, Dude? And why are those hats eight hundred dollars now?"

"We have to earn money so that Mabel can have a bone marrow transplant."

"Oh, I see," he said. A few customers looked at us as we all three marked items with outrageous prices. Some prices were crazier than others. A woman with short black hair and two little boys beside her brought a tee-shirt and two question mark hats to the counter. I rushed to the register.

"That'll be one thousand, two hundred, and ninety five dollars and thirty one cents."

"What?" she was taken aback. "That's terrible!"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you have to understand...someone very important to me is really sick, and-"

"Oh please. I've heard that one from Stan too many times," she snorted.

"I'll go to a thousand. Even."

"Are you crazy?"

"Eight hundred?"

"Thirty-five. That's all I'm paying. I'm not buying it otherwise."

I sighed, defeated.

"Fine."

I was now thirty-five dollars closer to fifty-thousand. I could do this. I wasn't going to give up.

The hours went by, and I tried my best to negotiate prices that were painful to look at. I told my sob story nearly a hundred times, and probably two or three people believed me. Soos and Wendy helped try to convince them, but it didn't do much.

On the brighter side, I made more than Stan usually made in a day.

The sun was going down, and I looked at my profits.

"Two thousand, guys!" I cheered. I hadn't felt this happy in awhile. I put the money in a big jar and hugged them both. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem, dude."

"Yeah, anything, Dipper."

"Now if I made two thousand every day..."

"It would take twenty-five days."

I groaned. That was way too long.

"We're just going to have to try harder tomorrow. And the next day. I'm going to show Stan all the money I earned, and then we can start preparing for the procedure."

"You know," Wendy smiled and patted my head. "You're a great brother. Mabel's lucky to have you."

"Thank you Wendy," I replied. We said our goodbyes and I rushed to the hospital, the jar under my arm. I caught my breath in the elevator, and when I went into Mabel's room, she and Stan were playing "I Spy".

"It's something blue?"

"Yup."

"Is it the walls?"

"Right again!" Mabel marked their scores on a sheet of paper. She looked at me as I entered the room.

"Dipper, you're back. And sweaty. As usual," she giggled.

"Guys, I think we're going to be able to afford the treatment. I made two-thousand dollars today, and I can get fifty-thousand in no time!"

"Really?" Stan took the jar and scrutinized its contents. "Wow...I didn't think you had it in you, Kid."

"I know," I couldn't contain my excitement. I hugged Mabel and turned to Stan. "And about earlier, I'm sorry. But...you don't need to sell the shack because I'm going to earn the money myself."

"Look, we both said a lot of things that _you're_ going to regret. But that's in the past," he said. "Anyway, tomorrow, you can go to the doctor and get checked out. Just so, you know, they're sure you can do this. I don't want to take any chances."

"Thank you, Grunkle Stan," I grinned. "I'm going to make three- no! Five-thousand tomorrow! Even if I have to con the whole town! You'll see!"

"That's my Dipper," Stan smiled.

* * *

**I made two references in this chapter. If you can find them, that's awesome.**


	6. The Nameless Chapter

**This chapter is short. Bewarb. **

* * *

After a couple of days, I had tripled my profits. Six thousand wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start.

I sat beside Stan in the waiting room of the doctor's office. There was still tension between us, though.

"Dipper Pines," a voice called. We left our seats and went inside. They took my vitals and led me to a room. The nurse was a tall twenty-something year old woman and had blonde hair with blue streaks.

"You're very brave," she said, looking over her chart. "I couldn't handle being put under anesthesia and having a needle in my back. You really love your sister, huh?"

"Of course," I smiled. I sat on the table and kicked my feet anxiously. "So...does everything look alright?"

"Yes. You're healthy as a horse. We're just going to need a blood sample. Also, you're going to have to pee in a cup."

"Well, alright," I said. Stan laughed and pointed at me teasingly.

I hated seeing my own blood. It used to make me pass out when I was little. But now, I had to do it. Mabel was in the hospital, waiting for me to come back with good news. And damn it, I was going to give it to her!

She cleaned my arm and placed a needle inside. My blood rushed into a little tube, and I was sure I was going to puke. It was the hardest thing I had done in awhile.

"See that wasn't so bad," she said after filling about three vials. "You're dehydrated, though. Drink plenty of water."

"Alright," I groaned. She put a band-aid over my arm and left the room. I continued to kick my legs, but now I was more happy than anything. Finally, Mabel was going to get better.

It would all be worth it. All the crying. All the rushing to restock shelves.

Things were going to be back to normal. I could see it now.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Stan asked.

"Well...of course I'm sure. I've never been so sure of anything in my life," I said, looking at the floor. "If it means Mabel will be okay again, I'll do anything. They can take all of my bone marrow, and my left leg. As long as she'll be okay."

We waited a half hour before seeing the doctor. At this point, I was beginning to dislike doctors.

He had balding gray hair and a mole on his cheek. He had a stethoscope around his neck.

He hesitated.

"We have some good news, and some bad news."

"What?" I blinked a few times. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"The good news is, I've never seen such healthy blood. You're lucky."

As flattered as I was, I couldn't help but become annoyed.

"And...the bad news?"

He huffed.

"You can't donate your bone marrow to her."

"What?" I exclaimed. "Why? I'm healthy enough!"

"Upon looking at your sister's files, we've come to the conclusion that your blood types don't match."

"What do you mean? We're twins, for Christ's sake! How is that possible?"

"It's very possible. You two are fraternal twins, and we see this a lot. I'm very sorry."

"Well, what about me?" Stan asked. "I'll do it then."

"Stanford...Stanford Pines...," he said typing a few things on his computer nearby. "Nope, you're not a match either according to our database."

"How?" I put my face in my hands. I had tried so hard. I earned six-thousand dollars, and then some. I wasn't sure what to do, or who to turn to. It was so painful to think about. I had failed her. Although it was through no fault of my own, I felt as if I could have done something.

I had expressed quite a few times how much better she'd feel once we'd gone through with everything. I didn't want to let her down. If only we had detected this sooner, she would be more likely to live.

I hope she'd forgive me for being so blind.

"Are you going to be alright?" Stan asked me as the doctor left the room.

_Of course not. There was no way in hell I could do this any longer._

_ I was far from being alright. Just hold it in and don't think about it, Dipper..._

"Yeah, of course. I...I just need to try something else. I could just save up more money, and she can get chemo," I said, pretending I still had faith left. We left the doctors and headed back into the car.

What was I going to do?

What was I going to tell Mabel?


	7. Refusing to Give Up

I wasn't going to tell her. I couldn't. It would break her heart.

Stan and I had made a silent pact to not say anything about it. And in the event that it came up, I would brush it off like it didn't matter.

Stan was outside of the room talking to the doctor. On an unrelated note, It was a pretty cold night, considering it was the middle of Summer.

I sat aboard the braid train. I wasn't so big on doing hair, but it was the least I could do for her.

Thirteen years, and I had no idea we weren't even the same blood type. It was like being twins was suddenly meaningless.

And Stan wasn't even a match. Sometimes he'd joke about us being adopted, but I was beginning to believe it, just for a minute.

Nah.

Something I did notice, though, was that Mabel was shedding quite a bit of hair from stress. I tried to imagine all of it just falling out upon starting treatment. She loved that big ball of fluff that came out of her head. I sighed and looked down. Her hair was in a loose braid now, and she held up a small mirror and smiled.

"You should be a barber, Dipper! I'd totally trust you with scissors near my neck!" she turned to see that I wasn't feeling myself. "Are you okay? Is something wrong? If it's about me, don't worry. I know you'll save up all the money you need."

"Yeah, ...no, I'm fine, Mabel..."

"I don't see a smile," she poked my stomach until I gave in. "There it is!"

"See, I'm fine," I fixed my blue and white hat. I was more distracted than I should have been. "Never been better..."

"You're all down in the dump-dumps," she frowned. "We can go somewhere you like when I'm better, if that'll cheer you up. The museum? Taco Bell?"

"N-no," I shook my head.

She sat facing me, crossing her legs.

"Dipper, you can tell me what's bothering you. I won't think of you any differently."

"Well, it's just...," I shook my head. "No...nothing."

"You're still my brother, and I love you."

"Mabel, I told you, I'm alright," I smiled forcefully. "See?"

"You don't have to lie anymore. You should embrace it."

"What?"

"That you like boys," she looked at me and blinked. She laughed when she saw my puzzled expression. "That's not it, is it?"

"No, Mabel...," I looked at the floor. I couldn't possibly tell her. Not without hating myself more than I already did. Not without crying until my head hurt and my eyes burned. It was like all my efforts the past few days now meant nothing.

But...I had to tell her. I thought I had my mind set, but it was now or never.

"Dipper, are you crying?" I hadn't noticed the tears rolling down my cheeks. She wiped them with her thumbs. "Don't cry. If you don't want to tell me, that's okay."

I sighed.

"Mabel, I need you to know that-"

Stan opened the door hard enough to catch our attention. It was almost like now he made it a point to look like hell.

"Kids...," he kicked the door closed. "We have to leave."

"But we already agreed that I could-"

"No, Dipper, I can't afford for her to stay here any longer. I already tried slipping and faking a lawsuit, but...we're going home. I mean, really this time."

"But what about Mabel?" I cried. "We're a family, Stan. And when your family's on the line, you'll sell your soul if you have to! Why is that so hard to understand?"

"I've told you a million times, Dipper. We've lost."

"But she needs to get better so we can do things!"

"No, she's going to stay home and recover as best as she can. That's that."

"I bet you would sell the shack if it was Kylie."

"You keep her out of this, you little punk." He seemed almost half-serious. "You really think I'm not trying? I sold my car for a new, crappy one. We're not even halfway there, Dipper. We're only at about ten-thousand. So quit being a sweaty little jerk and face facts."

I looked down at the floor.

Neither of us could donate bone marrow. If we had her on a waiting list, it would definitely be too late before we found a donor.

We didn't have nearly enough for treatment of any sort.

She was dying. What do you do when your sister sits there, her eyes begging for you to do your best, and you have no choice but to give up? What were we supposed to do, use that hard-earned money to keep her there? Just prolong the inevitable, as we tried time and time again to raise enough, only to be brought back down by the hospital bill? It would be a never-ending cycle. I wasn't going to put her through that.

"I'm sorry, Mabel," I said, standing up. I felt like I was doing something so malicious, giving up like that. I expected her to cry and tell me I had to do something.

"It's okay," was all she replied. I knew it wasn't. It wasn't the slightest bit okay.

She placed a sticker on my cheek that said, _You tried._

I tried not to cry when we left the hospital and into Stan's new, crappy blue Hyundai. Mabel couldn't walk well, so I had to help her into the car.

We drove home and walked inside. I carried Mabel on my shoulders. She was so light now, it didn't strain my back at all. We went upstairs into the attic, as if nothing had happened. Waddles was at Wendy's house, and would likely be home in the morning. Other than that, we tried to resume things as normal.

But I couldn't do it.

I sat on the corner of my bed. Stan was asleep at this point, and Mabel was in bed, groaning in pain, now that she didn't have heavy medication keeping it at bay.

I wasn't going to watch her die. Not like this.

I took out my suitcase and the jar of money. I packed some clothes, aspirin, and a few other things.

"Dipper, what are you doing?" she asked groggily.

I looked at her, smiling a little.

"We're going to Disneyland. We're going to meet the members of 'Joy Boys'. We're going to Sea World, the glitter factory, and The Puppy Cafe. And damn it, we're going to have the time of our lives."


	8. Disneyland

** Contrary to popular belief, I don't have a personal vendetta against Mabel.**

She grinned, sitting up. Then she thought for a bit.

"Grunkle Stan said I need to stay home."

"You'll only get worse here. Stan doesn't need to know, alright?" I had sneaked out before a couple times, but I'd never ran away from home. She took out her list, and skimmed over it.

"Okay," she responded with slight hesitation. "Let's go then."

Deep down, we knew this was probably the best option. We were both aware that she didn't have time left. I didn't have time or patience to argue with Stan about how she deserves to go out and fulfill her final wishes.

I hadn't fully realized that she was going to die. I'd have to face the remaining years of my life alone. But what troubled me the most was that she was never going to do the things that I was. She'd never step foot in high school or college. But I would. Alone, confused. I didn't have many friends. And the ones I did have teased me endlessly, anyway.

I held the suitcase of our things in one arm, and with the other, I held her hand. We quietly left the shack. I was pretty sure she couldn't walk without holding my hand. Her balance was off, and her legs were much too weak now.

I had to carry her piggyback halfway to the bus station. I went up to the window and bought two tickets. We waited for the next bus to California. It didn't come until about 3am.

We sat in the back, as usual. There were only a few others on the bus. I held Mabel's hand, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

"Dipper...," she looked up at me. "It...hurts..."

"I know, just close your eyes," I replied. She did so, and out of habit, I began to quietly sing a lullaby that Mom used to sing to us. (It really was out of habit- I hate my singing voice!)

"Don't be scared. We were born prepared. For, you see, you're safe beside me..."

I closed my eyes as well, hoping I'd wake up from this nightmare. I would open my eyes, and be back at the shack. Mabel would be happily skipping around, twirling around and being her silly self.

Despite my wishes and mental pleas, I woke up, still in the bus beside Mabel, who still slept.

_Alright, she's still breathing. This is good._

What I hated though, was that the bus played the same ten songs on the CD player the entire time. I heard them play over and over in my sleep. It kind of worsened my mood.

_"I'm coming home, I'm coming home. Tell the world I'm coming home. Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday..."_

Even though she was asleep, I cherished every moment that she was alive. Because sooner or later, she was going to be six feet under, and I'd only have my memories.

It was probably 10am. The sun was rising now, and we were somewhere in Southern California. We had already passed our hometown, and I was somewhat surprised we had made it this far. I took the list, which she had clutched to her chest as she slept. I looked over it. There were over fifty things we had to do, and I didn't know how long we had. Outside of the hospital, she could have died at any time. Now that I thought of it, it was probably illegal to deny treatment like that. But in a small town with such a small police force, it was easily overlooked.

Before I knew it, the paper became tearstained. I was dying as much on the inside as Mabel was on the outside. I had this cold feeling in my chest. I was a mess.

"Dipper," she opened her eyes, rubbing them. "What's wrong?"

"N-N-Nothing," I replied. Seeing me cry got her started, which happened often when I cried. Then it was just a tear parade. "I'm...just..."

"No m-matter what...," she looked down. "I'll be with you...o-okay? Even w-when I die, y-you won't be alone..."

"Y-You're not...going to die," my attempts to suppress the truth were futile. I knew she was going to die. "I..I can't lose you..."

The bus stopped right in front of Disneyland. She wiped her tears and smiled, grabbing my arm as we left the bus.

We approached the ticket counter. We bought two tickets and briskly entered the park. Neither of us had ever been to Disneyland, though I always wanted to go. No one ever wanted to take us, and Stan called it "a people trap set by a mouse". Kind of ironic if you think about it, considering the fact that he cheats people out of their money for a living.

I carried her on my back, knowing she didn't want to walk so much. She needed to save her energy anyway.

After going on a ride or two, she became more and more lethargic. She loved rides, but maybe it's not the best idea when you're so sick. We sat down at one of the diners with strawberry smoothies as a parade went by. She didn't seem as happy as I wanted her to be. I was doing this for her. I ran away from home and stole money so she could have a good time, so what the hell was this about?

"Mabel, are you alright?"

"Yeah. It's just that...," she rested her cheek on her hand. "I didn't say goodbye to Grunkle Stan or Waddles. Or Wendy or Soos, or that cute guy that works at the grocery store. And it's like...I should be doing this sort of thing when I'm old and dying of natural causes. I...I don't know...I guess I'm just not ready. I wanted all this to be a reminder that I got better. Not a reminder that I'm not going to make it."

I instantly understood.

I was doing the wrong thing. Taking her there. As if to say, "You're going to die. Do this crap before you die so it won't be so depressing."

"Mabel...," I swallowed hard. "I didn't know-"

"It's alright," she sighed. "I really appreciate you taking me here though. I...shouldn't have agreed so mindlessly."

I should have thought this through.

This isn't what she wanted. This is what I wanted her to want.

I should have tried harder first. I should have tried harder to pressure Stan to sell the shack, or begged Mom and Dad to try to pitch in. Stan had already asked, but they declined. It's sad. You shouldn't have to beg your parents to help save your sister's life.

_Damn it, Dipper, you're so stupid!_

"I...I just...," the smoothie I was drinking slipped out of my shaking hands and fell to the floor. I covered my face and sniffled.

_Please forgive me...Mabel..._

"Dipper...," she placed an arm on my shoulder. I looked up at her eyes, which had dark circles under them. She was pale and looked as sickly as she probably felt. "But I'm happy...that you would do this for me," a few tears ran down her cheeks. "I couldn't have asked for a better brother. Let's just...go do the next thing, if it's not too much to ask."

"Mabel, you wanted to go to Disneyland, though. It was the first thing on your list. 'Go to Disneyland with Dipper'."

"Yeah. Because you always wanted to go."

"But..."

"If you want to stay longer, we can. I know you've always wanted to be here, and-"

"No, we'll do whatever you want. How about The Puppy Cafe?"

"That's two hours from here."

"We can get back on the bus, okay? Whatever you want. Because I know for sure that's something you wanted to do. That...that would cheer you up, right?"

She giggled.

"I do like puppies."

I ruffled her hair and we stood up, heading out of the park. It was hard both carrying the suitcase and carrying her on my shoulders. But it was worth it.

The bus ride to San Diego was just as tedious as the one to Anaheim. We sat there, silently. She pulled a brown spiral notebook from her sweater after about an hour.

"What's this?" I asked as she handed it to me.

"I thought it would be a good idea to write letters to you while I was in the hospital. I know it's silly," she giggled. I opened it to the first page as she began to doze off again.

**I have this headcanon that the lullaby is in the tune of "Made Me Realize," the show's opening sequence. The show's opening is the lullaby, but more upbeat. And, you know, without vocals.**


	9. Dear Dipper

_Dear Dipper,_

_ Having leukemia is scary. But I know I'll get better. Most people do, right?_

_ I felt worse for you than I did myself._

_ It was sad watching you fall apart like that. Every time you see me, you seem to die a little more. We don't have money to help me much, but I can wait (Is that even legal to make me wait?) because I believe in you. _

_Dear Dipper,_

_ I don't feel right. Grunkle Stan says it's because I'm "high as a kite" on the medication, but it beats all the pain I was in. _

_ The doctor says I might die. But I'm not going to give up._

_ The thought of dying is scary. What if I became a zombie? Eww._

_Dear Dipper,_

_ Mom and Dad were going to visit today. But they didn't. I didn't want you to see me cry about it, so I suggested you hang out with Wendy. When you declined, I felt really appreciated. Like, you'd rather stay with me than the girl of your dreams. You're awesome._

_ You seemed different today. What did Grunkle Stan tell you that killed your mood like that?_

_Dear Dipper,_

_ You couldn't hold back your tears today. But that was okay. You don't have to pretend you're not scared, because I know you are. _

_ Your eyes are red whenever I see you. Either you got into Grunkle Stan's stash of "special medicine", or you've been crying an awful lot. _

_ I made a list of things to do when I get better. It's coming along great. _

_ You left the hospital really quickly. It freaked me out. But Grunkle Stan kept me company. He said he thinks I'm going to be fine, but I knew he was lying. He told me a lot of stories, too. I tried politely to stay awake as he went on and on about that time he killed a black widow, when he had that dream about the carrots and the raccoons(you know the one), and that time he let Kylie climb the town statue so he could take a cool picture. He sure does have a lot to talk about. _

_Dear Dipper_

_ I feel really weak today. You were both at the doctor's, and I was alone._

_ I spent a lot of that time crying. You weren't there to tell me it was alright and hum that lullaby mom used to sing to us when we couldn't sleep. I feel empty inside._

_ I'm not going to lie. I don't think I'm going to live now. You always told me if I died, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. I hope you don't do anything crazy. I'd be upset if you couldn't move on._

_Dear Dipper_

_ We're going home. I don't want to, though. I wanted to stay so I could get better._

_ I wanted to fill out all the pages so that you'd have something to remember me by. And if I lived, you'd be like "Aha, Mabel wrote that."._

_ But that's okay. I never seem to be able to finish anyth_

I wiped my tears. I had been so focused on how miserable I was, I never took into account how she felt. I never fully realized what she was experiencing. All of her dreams and hopes for the future washing away. Her family arguing about her. It was all so clear now. My monochromatic, one-sided mind set had taken its toll on her. I was upset because_ I_ couldn't see her grow up. Because she wouldn't be there when _I_ got married, and she wouldn't be with me when _I_ pursued my goals.

The thought consumed me the rest of the way there.

San Diego was a beautiful city.

The bus dropped us off in a small shopping district. It was about 4PM, and we weren't exactly sure where it was from there. We couldn't have been too far. We kind of of knew where it was, but we were slightly lost.

"Can we eat first?" Mabel suggested. "I'm hungry."

This was news to me, as she didn't have much of an appetite before.

"O-of course," I nodded with a smile. We almost went to Taco Bell, but we settled for a small Burger joint. (I had a strange nightmare about Taco Bell once.) We sat at a booth across from each other, and I sat the suitcase next to me.

I was so glad she had an appetite. Because I didn't. I hadn't eaten since the day we took her to the hospital.

"You're not hungry?" she took one bite, then another. "Come on, Dipping Sauce. It's good for you."

I scrutinized the burger.

"I wouldn't call it...good for you, exactly. I'm pretty sure this is soy meat. Or horse."

She giggled.

"But it's delicious soy or horse meat."

I poked at my burger with a fork. She was only halfway done with her double bacon cheeseburger when she hurriedly stood up.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"I-I'm not-" her face turned nearly green. "I'll be right back!"

She rushed to the bathroom, nearly tripping on her own feet, without another word.

I felt bad for her. Maybe the meat was bad. Or maybe it just didn't agree with her.

I waited several minutes. She didn't return.

Then it clicked. Something was wrong.

I ran to the bathroom door. It was a one-person unisex bathroom, so she had to be in there.

"Mabel?" I knocked a few times and waited for an answer. Nothing. "Mabel! MABEL!"

The door was locked, and I shoved my entire body against it several times. Finally, I kicked it open, and she lay on the floor, a small pool of blood and bile beneath her face.

"D-D-Dipper...where...are you?" she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"No, No, Mabel, I'm right here," I held her head up on my knees. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. She finally sat up and puked into the toilet a few times. I held her hair and patted her back. I didn't even want to look. I knew she was dying, and I didn't need to see scarring images to know that.

"It's...c-cold in here...," she mumbled. I took off my shirt and covered her with it horizontally like a blanket.

"Deep breaths, Mabel...," I tried to calm her down, though I began to hyperventilate. "M-Mabel...come on, not now...you can't be sick now...we haven't even gotten to the cafe yet."

The mention of the cafe made her vomit again.

"No...," she said. "We're still- ugh...we're still going...Dipper, w-w-w-we can't stop now...I'll get better...I'll be good..."

"I'm...so sorry, Mabel," I sniffled. "I should have listened to Stan...I should have just raised that money. Why am I so stupid?! Ugh!"

She wiped her mouth.

"Let's just...," she hiccuped. "Let's go...do the thing...We can pick up some medicine from the store..."

If it was what she wanted, I couldn't argue.

I put my shirt back on, picked her up and carried her on my back. I grabbed the suitcase and we headed out.

We walked into a rather sizable Wal-Mart. I let Mabel down and picked up some Tums. I began to look at the ginger ales. I turned when I heard a familiar voice.

"Please...come home, Kids."

I looked up.

"Grunkle Stan?"

There were about a hundred television sets. Each had Stan on it, being interviewed. I dropped the suitcase in shock.

"Woah...," Mabel looked up. "Is it just me, or do these TVs make Grunkle Stan look thinner?"

"I know I said some things," Stan continued. "But I couldn't live with myself if you two got hurt. So please-"

Wendy took the microphone and the camera sloppily shifted to her.

"Dipper, look, I know you're upset, but please...," tears rushed down her freckled cheeks, and every television echoed throughout the store."Please, just come back to Gravity Falls. I need to know you two are okay..."


	10. San Diego

**I can't type with my left index finger. I had an accident in the kitchen and there was blood everywhere.**

**Sorry about the delays. I'm a bit...overwhelmed lately. But I am working on something new, as well.**

**Please read it, as I'm going to post it soon.**

**There's a kitten on my front porch. I started playing with it, and now it won't leave. So now I'm distracted. Enjoy chapter ten, everyone!**

* * *

My mind began to rush. Everywhere I looked, I saw Wendy's tear-ridden face. I'd turn around, and it was there too.

"D-Dipper, are you alright?"

I couldn't breathe. My head began to throb and I began to sweat. Something in my mind told me I needed to panic, and I did.

They showed our pictures on the screen, and a few people looked at us. Some pointed. My stomach was in knots. We couldn't go home now. We had gotten so far.

_Please come home..._

_ We miss you..._

"Dipper, calm down!" Mabel exclaimed. Without a word, I threw her on my shoulders and rushed out.

We couldn't leave.

Not yet.

"What are you doing?" she asked as I let her down after I had ran about half a block. "You didn't buy the stuff..."

"I-I...I just...," I choked to catch my breath. "They...they're looking for us...b-but we...we need to keep...going...or else you'll never...get to..."

Everything went dark at that moment. I just remember feeling dizzy as my limbs slowly went numb.

You'd think Mabel would be the one whose body would just give out like that. But you'd be wrong.

When I came to, I was in a place I didn't recognize. There were two big beds, a television, and a nightstand in the room.

"M-Mabel?" I stood up and instantly fell again. It took me a few times, but I finally had enough strength to walk to the kitchen. I drank a cup of water, as this was probably just dehydration and the fact that I hadn't eaten in several days. I looked around, and the place itself wasn't so bad. It was obviously a hotel, but how was I here? And where the hell was Mabel?

I searched every room until my eyes met with a note on the kitchen counter.

_Be back soon! -Mabel_

There was a drawing of a cat wearing a tuxedo at the bottom of the page. I thought for a bit.

Where did she go, and why was she so vague? She couldn't get far on her own, so why would she leave like that?

Just as I was about to slip on my shoes and rush out the door in search for her, she opened the door, holding two plastic bags. They seemed heavy, and I took them from her, setting them down.

"Mabel, where were you? What...what were you thinking?"

"I hope you don't mind. There's a convenience store next door, so I picked up a few things." I looked in the bag and found two TV dinners, my favorite brand of apple juice, snacks, painkillers, scented stickers, and a few other things I didn't bother to look through.

"W-well of course I mind! Do you understand how sick you are?"

"Hey, you passed out and we're alone in the middle of San Diego."

"Mabel...," I held my head. I hated how protective I was of her, but it was for her own good. "Anything could have happened. Y-you could have needed me...you could have gotten lost or been robbed or raped or-"

"Dipper, I'm alright," she giggled a bit.

"It's just...what if you had gotten hurt? I don't know what I'd do. I know you were only out for a bit, but you're sick and you could give out at any moment."

She put her arm on my shoulder.

"Look," she sighed. She looked up at me. "I...I don't think I have a lot of time left. I care about you more. Because you have so much ahead of you. I sat there for hours making sure you were alright. But then I realized I needed to make sure we had food and everything. And you weren't going to wake up, so I had to take care of it on my own. But I think it's good," she folded her arms and smiled. "I'm practically an adult already!"

I held the bridge of my nose.

"Well...alright," I sighed. "Just be careful, is all I'm saying."

"You know," she sat on one of the beds and kicked off her shoes. "I'm actually really happy we did this. It...it is kind of sad, but I'm just glad we didn't stay home and do nothing."

I sat beside her and turned on the television. The news was on.

"A nation shaken. A family is broken apart as the search for two missing twins continues. What started as a family dilemma is now making headlines all around the country. The young teens were last seen on Monday night, and it's unknown whether they fled or were abducted. It is noted that the twins, Matthew, or Dipper and Mabel Pines disappeared shortly upon returning home from the hospital after Mabel was diagnosed with leukemia and given just weeks to live-"

I reached for the remote to change the channel, but paused when something caught my attention. The reporter continued.

"The family has been receiving hefty donations from around the country, as their insurance can not cover the child's treatment. We can only hope that the kids return home unharmed."

We exchanged looks. A grin widened across her face.

This was it. It was finally over. No more crying. No more scrambling to raise money or pretending she'd get better without treatment.

I was going to have my sister back.


End file.
